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defmaybe · 8 months ago

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J’adore

5.2k words

aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

Prequel to Not Shy

A/N: Kind of extension to Not Shy! Also, this is my last sprint before the midterms lol, I’ll be back after that and try to write something good. Kinda rough bc there’s no beta-reading lol. Thanks for reading as always!!!

—

Spring

“You? A student council member?”

“It’s just the treasurer!”

It’s the easiest position, according to your seniors, which seems to be much, much more credible sources than Kai, the friend you got caught in a debate with.

“Just the treasurer. Mate, have you seen the lads from last year? I swear that one of them almost died.”

“I have to build my portfolio, man. You even have your dance club!” You retort, trying to grasp on something.

“Well, it’s because I like to dance.” Kai says in a mocking tone. He doesn't mean to be condescending, of course. He’s your best friend, after all. “Do you like to work with Excel?”

“I mean–”

“Board games? No, too nerdy. Cheerleader? No, too demanding. And then you fucking jumped onto the student council? I swear, man, you definitely have some kind of death wish,” he says.

You sigh, surrendering to his points. Still, you're too deep in the application process to turn back now. You look back at your phone, seeing all the completed questions in the form.

“I’m not leaving you behind, still,” Kai says, patting your back. “I’ll give you caffeine when you need it.”

Do you think you’re qualified to be a student council member?

Yes.

“I’m sending it now.”

“Good luck.”

Submit

Thank you for your submission. We will announce our selection by May 1st.

—

Summer

Maybe it was how the last year’s council members turned out to be. You were the only one who applied for the treasurer's position. Hell, even the other ones aren’t any more popular either. There was no one in the head of first aid, and they had to roll out another round of applications for that.

The fresh faces of the new student council members are all standing inside this meeting room—so determined, so passionate. Their chatters fill the room up with life.

You glance around the room. You’re familiar with some of them, walk-pasts in the hallways, sitting-fars in the classes, until one woman catches your eye.

Yoo Jimin, you’ve heard that she beat the second place applicant for president by quite a margin. Her confidence is probably what makes her so alluring to the students. Also, her face, fuck, her face, she’s the fucking epitome of perfection.

Maybe it’s the way you stare at her for just a little too long; she starts to walk towards you, and that’s when you fell into her trap for the first time.

She stops just a step away, offering you a handshake—firm, assured.

“Yoo Jimin,” she declares—stern, expressionless.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jimin.” You accept her grip, lips curling inward, letting out a minuscule smile—relaxed, reserved.

“We’ll be working together for the next year. I’m looking forward to it.” She keeps it professional in the expression she makes. There’s nothing to be made of it, except for the fact that she’s very reticent with her face.

You force out another small smile. “I’m also looking forward to it, Jimin.”

—

“Areas! I need two tables and four chairs. Parcels, get your equipment ready.”

The first meeting between the freshmen and their seniors is always the hardest to perfect. There’s the idea that the first impression defines the future of the relationship between the two. So, here you are, in your faculty’s First Meet event. You’re lucky that they let you use the air conditioners on the d-day. Those fucking run-throughs got you all melted.

You have little work to do today, having managed the proposals and preparing to do the post-production stuff. So, you’re at the core team’s table, playing whatever your old laptop can handle, until—

“Are you free?”

You look up from your screen to see the angelic figure that is Yoo Jimin standing in front of you, towering you with ease with you sitting in your seat.

“Uh–,” you can only let out a hesitation.

“I guess you’re—” she bends over the desk to see the gaming screen, before letting out a small laugh. “—free?”

“Y–Yes, Jimin.” A slight view of her cleavage can be seen with her posture, and you have to do your best to find something else to look at.

“Good. Can you help us carry a few tables?”

You look at your frail arms—should’ve done some more work at the gym. “If you want me to tear my biceps.”

Jimin chuckles, before closing on your ear, left hand pressing on your right thigh, “Don’t worry that you wouldn’t be able to jerk off, treasurer. I can do it for you.”

You freeze, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. Did she just say that? Such lewd words?

Jimin, sensing your tensed up body, pulls back from you and laughs. “Oh my god, look at you. I was just fucking with you!”

“Good grief, Jimin. You could’ve killed me,” you huff.

She shoots back a beam. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

—

Fall

The clicking sound of your keyboard and the scratches of the bills you’re arranging permeates the room this evening. Jimin is sitting on the other side of the trash-ridden table—stationeries, snack wraps—eyes unfocused as she swipes one short video after another. Her thoughts seem to be elsewhere now. Dinner? Bed? Someone? You’ll never know.

“Fucking hell, this bitch again,” she mutters under her breath, which you catch. You look up from the budget plan you’re working on, meeting her eyes.

“Sorry, Tinder stuff.”

You return her a tiny smile before going back to inputting the bills. Still, you can hear Jimin’s tossing and turning in her chair as she seems to type something into her phone, before smashing her thumb on the right side of its poor screen. You can’t help but let out a chuckle, one that she catches.

“Yeah, it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” Jimin rhetorizes, placing her phone on the table. “A student president that just can’t find any partner.”

You shrug, still typing, “Well, the work is gruelling.” And she chuckles at your statement.

“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s just, how to explain?” She furrows her eyebrows, tapping her chin to seek the right word in the air, before coming to an answer. “I just can’t find the right person, you know? Half of the line is gone once I show any bit of confidence, and the other half are, well, clingy ass bitches.”

You smile back at her, trying to give her some solace in solitude. “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon, Jimin. You like–have the whole faculty in your hands.”

She gives you a weak smile. “You always have pleasant words for everyone, treasurer.”

You smile back before returning to your accounting work, unbeknownst to the light bulb brightening up inside her head.

“So, how’s your love life?” She asks, rising from the other side. She leans forward ever so slightly, hands supporting her frame on the white table, slightly revealing the valley of her breasts.

You break yourself from the laptop, once again, meeting her cleavage in your line of sight for a split second. It’s magnetic, but you’re able to resist it, for now.

“Hmm?”

“I mean… you don’t seem to be an awful choice for women, or men, judging from… how many months?”

“Four,” and you gulp.

“Yeah, four months with you, my treasurer. But I’ve never quite caught you being involved in anything,”—she stands up straight, before slowly striding towards your seat, hips swaying at each nifty step—“romantic.”

You clench your eyes ever so tightly at her alluring motion—the swaying hips, the crossing steps—as if there’s anything to examine but her burning lust. “Well, Jimin, I don’t think the passive mid-table guys get much,” you state.

“Is that so? Because you don’t seem to belong at the mid-table.” The distance between you two is shrinking, slowly. And with a few more small steps, you find her towering over you, chest basking in front of your face.

Jimin bends down slowly, revealing just a slight sight of her gorgeous cleavage. The poor crop top is struggling to hold her supple flesh within, even with the workshop shirt helping. You shift just slightly in your seat.

Your eyes are doing their best to resist the magnetic force, but her big brown eyes aren't a sanctuary, either.

“Thanks, miss president.”

Her Dior J’adore is enrapturing you.

“You know, I notice the perfume you wear every day, even if it’s just CK One.” She forces sultry into her perceptive words, and to say, it works. She drags her right middle finger along the length of your arm, lighting a fire in its trail.

You try to keep your composure; it works, for now. She doesn’t seem to notice the sweat hanging off your forehead yet.

“Or how you dress so damn well to class, even if it’s some fuckass subject,” Jimin continues, tracing her hands up to your forearm now.

Your breath hitches, and you can just connect the dots so easily.

“W–Why me, though, Jimin?”

“Oh, clever boy, I just need the real thing, that’s all,” she coos. Her digits are playing with the line of your collarbones now.

“See, I’m just so fucking sick of my—well, what’s the word, devices. They’re pleasurable, sure, but unlike a real person, which in this case—is you—” Her hand grabs your chin from behind, and you can’t find any resistance. Her sonic reduces into a sensual whisper into your ear. “—they lack warmth.”

“S–So, do you want to have—”

“Sex? Yes, I want you inside me, baby. I want you body clashing against mine, while you moan my name like you’re some common whore.”

It’s haywire, your mind. You are lost in her—her voice, her face, her body, everything that’s about Jimin. Is she really inviting you to have sex with her? Is this interaction even real?

“So, what do you say, wanna go somewhere after this? Somewhere—small, somewhere—private.” Her voice dives into a whisper beside your ear, and you can feel a smile forming beside it. “I’m sure you can work on your bills—anywhere.”

You stare forward, trying to look unfazed to cover your crumbling composure.

“I–I can work on the bills anywhere, Jimin.” Your voice betrays you.

She gives a quiet laugh, “Good to know, treasurer,” before lightly grabbing your chin, with her index and middle finger resting on your lips. Are they seeking silence or entry?

Slowly, they push your upper lip ever so slightly, eliciting a whimper from you. Fuck, is she trying to—

“You know what to do, baby.”

Rejection.

Hesitation.

Submission.

You open your mouth for her—now courtesy of Yoo Jimin. You take in her fingers. They’re cold from the air conditioner. Bite. Lick. Swallow. You close your eyes while doing so, absorbing her taste with your tongue. You feel you’re under her control—so submissive. It’s ecstatic.

“God, do you like being called a whore? Because you’re acting like one right now,” Jimin asks.

You profusely nod at her statement, continuing to suck on her fingers.

“Then keep doing it, whore.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you can hear her giggle. And as your vision comes back to her, the free hand is rubbing against her clothed core now. Mewling sounds can be heard.

“God, keep sucking it, baby. I’ve never cummed as fast as this before.”

“Ngh.” And you keep sucking her fingers.

A sound of the door stops you in your tracks though.

“Guys, I need a few chairs–am I interrupting something?”

Ning Yizhuo, head of student welfare, barges into the room. She stares straight at you two. Good thing Jimin pulls her digits out and puts them behind her back before Yizhuo’s eyes catch sight of you glistening on her, leaving you stranded in your burning desire for your president.

Maybe it’s the way your eyes are still fluttering. Maybe it’s the way your mouth ever so slightly hangs open. Maybe it’s your quick breaths.

Yizhuo wants to know what’s up.

“We’re just–” Jimin tries to find the right word in your eyes. Her blinks are rapid. She’s concerned. She’s afraid.

“You’re–what?” Yizhuo isn’t a patient figure. She’s trying to gauge something out of Karina.

“I–I’m adjusting his posture! O–Our dear treasurer has a bad sitting posture and–”

“Cut the shit, Jimin. What the fuck did you guys do?”

“S–See, he’s sitting a lot, you know? B–Bills. Accounting. Excel stuff.” Jimin’s brows hint at the concern within her chuckle. She pushes the middle of your back to set you straight up. As you follow her move, Yizhuo clenches her eyes.

“Just get me some chairs and don’t fuck inside this room.”

—

Jimin swings her door open, and as expected, every single bit of it is immaculately kept clean. There’s not a single piece of trash on the floor of her white room; the table is meticulously arranged; the bed is folded. There’s a Meteora vinyl placed on her shelf. God, what a tasteful woman.

“Drop your bag.”

You comply as she also does so.

And she immediately pounces on your body, consuming your taste and scent at your nape. Her lips are wet, sending shocks through your pliant frame.

“Mmph, keep this perfume, baby. I just wanna have this scent of you every day.”

It’s CK One.

She plants her kisses along your neck—standing up straight—ever so determined to make you hers. Her hands lock your shifting, shaking body in place, despite being so eager to feel every inch of you—up and down.

“So—pliant, so—submissive,” she whispers.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you deflect, trying to have a hold of the battle. There’s a glint of brattiness inside you that wants to resist her just a little, just before you give in.

“Is that so?” Jimin mewls, before pushing you onto the bed.

“I’m not letting you have me that easily, miss president,” you say with your back against her soft cushion. Jimin is straddling her lean, lengthy legs over yours. She looks so damn tall from this view—you lying beneath her.

“Sucking my fingers, then decide to be a bratty bitch right now—” She lightly taps the tip of your nose, also scrunching hers. “—I like that.”

You say nothing, giving her just a wink from below.

“Oh, baby, I’ll have you scream my name so many times.”

“Fucking make me then.”

And fires ignite in her eyes.

She dives onto your left ear—nibbling, biting, swallowing, whatever she can do with her mouth without tearing your auricle off. Her deep moans send suppressed shudders through your neurons.

Jimin spreads saliva all over your ear, no sign of relenting. Slurping sounds of her flesh ring in your head. She plants each lick with purpose, and it sends jolts and jolts through your body. Still, you’re far from falling apart—tethered on the ground.

“Tsk, i–is this the best y–you can do?”

“Oh, baby, you’re already stuttering? I can do more if you want~,” she tastefully threatens. Then, she brings her right hand into play, tilting your chin up. Your mouth is right beside her neck. The pale smoothness of her skin is presented in front of you, and you just can’t help but—

“F–Fuck!” Jimin yells, clearly enraptured with the swipes of tongue you are giving her. Still, she keeps spreading her saliva on your ear as if it’s hers (it’s hers).

“Oh, b–baby boy, maybe you can use your t–tongue on other things instead,” she whines.

“Your cunt?” You keep stretching your tongue onto her nape, getting a taste of her sweat.

She pulls back from you, robbing the sensations away from your throat. “Clever, now just lie like this. I’m riding your pretty face.”

Jimin then takes off her purple lace panties, giving you a hint of her wet cunt—unshaved—as she lifts her leg, before stuffing the garment onto your nose. Fuck, her musk is so intense; you can just die happily right here.

“You just love it, don’t you?”

You sheepishly nod, pressing her panties against your nose even tighter, eliciting laughs from her sinful mouth.

“I think that’s enough, baby. I wanna fuck your face now,” she says, before tossing away the filthy garment.

Jimin then moves forward on her knees, bringing her heat closer and closer to your face. God, the fact that she’s unshaved only brings you higher. You need to slurp her juice; you need it on your face, you–

“Ready?”

Her cunt is hovering above you now, she’s pulling her skirt up, letting you see her face for the last time before being buried under her.

You nod.

And she sinks onto your face.

The first contact is soft, so, so soft. You’re practically making out with pussy, as she shakes above you erratically. There isn’t much light, with her skirt darkening your vision of what’s around, but it’s like you’d complain. You’re eating your student president out in her room, and you’re doing it so, so well that it sends shivers through her body, again and again.

“Ngh, f–fuck!” Jimin shouts from above—the things you’d do to see her face right now, to see an effect you’re having on her.

You say nothing, just keep lapping up her folds enthusiastically. Her juice drips into your mouth—sweet.

Jimin starts to grind her hips, as the moans grow louder. She’s getting wetter, and you’re still happily drinking her sugary nectar—drunk with it.

“Ah, ah, y–you’re doing well, my treasurer.”

You give her a thumbs up. You keep licking her cunt as if your life is depending on it. She moans so loud; everyone on this floor is probably going to hear that, but you don’t care anymore. The only thing in your head right now is to please Jimin—only Yoo Jimin.

And you can feel her thighs tense, shaking with pleasure. She’s going to cum. Her moans grow more chaotic and shorter than they were.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, fuck!”

She cums hard, collapsing onto the bed, cunt still on your face, ass up in the air. Her core clenches and clenches on your face, and she just forgets to breathe as her hips convulse.

“No squirt today, huh?” you joke from below.

She snaps back into the situation she’s in, sneering, “Fuck off, don’t fucking play stupid with me, wh–whore.”

You laugh, “Alright, alright, let’s get to the main course, shall we?”

“Y–Yeah.”

Jimin lifts off from you, leaving a string of her lubricant between your lips and her cunt.

“God, that’s hot,” you just can’t help but say it.

She giggles, and you can now see the sweat forming on her forehead; there’s beauty in it.

You two, in a haste, discard all of your clothes until you’re left with nothing—just bare bodies on the bed together. You’re sitting opposite of her, expecting her to say something.

She looks ethereal under the room light. The messy hair, the perfect features, the bare body, they all combine into the epitome of perfection right in front of you. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“Can I suck your tits?” you mutter. Fuck reticence, you need her, now.

She chuckles. “Sure, but only if I’m on top of you.”

“You just have to find a way to dominate me, don’t you?” you huff.

“Don’t say it like you don’t like it, baby.” She caresses your cheeks, and you shiver at her touch.

You lie down, as she slowly eclipses the light above both of you. Her large breasts are hanging down so close to your face. And—

“F–Fuck!”

You latch your mouth on her right breast as if it’s innate, with your hand kneading on the other. She lets out empyrean moans that only makes you want to suck on them even more. God, you can do this all day.

And not wanting to wait anymore, she impales her cunt with your cock, and you can only moan into her tits. This sensation, it’s overwhelming. Her velvety walls are hugging you so, so tightly. It’s so warm. She’s warm.

“Fuck,” she groans, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Your cock is so well-bent, baby. It’s hitting my g-spot so good.”

“T–Thanks, J–Jimin.” Your mind is so damn clouded by the pleasure that you can say nothing but her name right now.

And a crack starts to form when she moves—up and down. Her unshaved cunt dragging along your digit, emanating pleasure all over your body from the core.

“B–Babe, c–can you stop s–sucking my tits?” she pleads.

You pull yourself out of her mounds, as she’s still riding you like there’s no tomorrow, and you let out small moans at each contact. “W–What? Ngh.”

“I wanna kiss you.”

You freeze under her. She’s still motioning herself to squeeze the cum out of you, whimpering each time your cock hits the hilt. Is it a confession? Does she love—

“B–Babe,” she brings you back to the mortal world.

“Y–Yeah, kiss me.”

She invades your mouth as if it wasn’t already hers at the second she sits on your face. Your tongues intertwine in a quest to declare their feelings of their owners.

Your hands are still squeezing her breasts. It’s addictive. You press and press into her flesh just to feel her as much as you can. This might as well be the only body you want to have just to yourself, as you dedicate yours to her. Every curve, every contour, every limb, you want her; you want her to want you; you need her. This kiss, fuck, it’s doing wonders to you.

She’d be the one to break off from the kiss to pant above you, hips still smashing into yours in a perfect rhythm.

“W–Wanna go out with me?” she asks.

She’s desperate, all the Tinder dates, all the–

“Babe, I–I fucking know that it’s desperate, yes or no. Fuck those Tinder dates, fuck those guys and girls, I–I want to go out with you, t–treasurer,” she pants.

Maybe it’s her J’adore that’s permeating all over you. Maybe it’s the way your hips are clashing into each other. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the glint in her eyes.

But if you have to recall, it’d be the confidence she’s radiating in clashing your flesh together just right now.

You nod.

Jimin smiles, pulling you into another kiss. You swear it can tear you apart if you have to let this woman go—figuratively.

She pulls off, her breaths becoming shorter and shorter again. “C–Can you cum with me, baby?”

Again, you nod, smiling. It’s inside your loins, building up, building up. Your body tenses up beneath her, same as hers. It’s there. It’s there.

“Fuck, baby, breed me. I’m yours, just breed me, just–ugh!”

And her whole body freezes, juices flowing onto your crotch. Her face is contorted by the pleasure coursing through her. Again, she forgets to breathe, back arching. You don’t slow down, though. Your orgasm is coming too.

“B–Babe–ah!”

It breaks. You busy yourself inside her to the hilt. Just like her, you forget to breathe. You shoot spurts of your seed deep into her womb, intending to breed her as her wish. Your cock shakes inside her, as she moans at each twitch.

It subsides, eventually. The shots get softer and softer to the point the cum just dribbles off the tip of you now. Fuck, your juices even leak out of her cunt onto your crotch, mixed together.

“F–Fuck,” is all she can say, before collapsing onto you, chest pressed up against yours.

“The plan’s still up?”

“Yeah.”

And she slips to the side, embracing you from behind, as you two doze off in the nocturne.

—

“Can I use your toothbrush?”

A long drag of uncertainty comes from the outside. Sun has risen hours ago, yet you two are still in the drowsy state.

“Or do I have to kiss you again for the answer, Jimin?”

“Put your morning breath away from me!”

At least she’s quick with her riposte.

As you brush your teeth, naked, she saunters into the bathroom, still similarly bare from last night. Her breasts bounce ever so slightly with each step in the mirror. Despite the disheveled appearance, her natural beauty shines through the mess—a seraphic being, one might say.

“Ha, yeah, I know I’m pretty, baby,” she says. “People would kill to have a body like me.”

You finish your clean up, before saying, “You’re insufferable, you know?”

Jimin laughs, before giving you a quick peck on the cheek, emanating mellow all over your face. Fuck, you can feel the blood rushing to your erection now.

“You too, babe.” She smiles, before grabbing her mouthwash for a gargling.

Your cock, again, finds the condition to rise in front of this woman. It’s twitching, and you just have to turn back before she notices it.

Still, her sharp eyes find you, and she gives you a small slap on your bare ass, sending pleasure rushing through your body.

“Hey!” she growls with the mouthwash, before quickly disposing of it. “You’re fucking hard again?”

“I–I–I–uh–”

Jimin then presses herself up against your back, arms ever so tightly trapping you from behind in a hug. It’s warm. She’s warm.

“Let me, baby,” she whispers against your wobbling right ear. “I can’t have my co-workers’ needs go unsated.”

“F–Fucking hell.”

In one careful motion, Jimin slides her arms down to your erection, right hand grabbing the length. “Wouldn’t mind some respect from my baby boy~” Her grip and the languid, careful strokes make your legs wobble.

“Tsk, n–no fucking way, J–Jimin,” you muster any inhibition you have left to deflect.

“Well, then.” Jimin then tightens her hold on your cock, transpiring both pain and pleasure to you. “How about now?”

“Nghhhh, f–fuck,” you cry out, the contorted expression appears in the mirror.

“Just like that, baby, moan for me. Show me who owns you,” Jimin coos, loosening her hold a slight, still keeping the adagio tempo.

“Nnnh, J–Jimin.”

“Good boy, good boy,” she murmurs.

She drags her filthy hand up and down your cock so leisurely, finding the rhythm for your pliancy. She strokes and strokes to build you up to the second release with her, this time by her hand.

It feels like eternity—the way her unhurried digits find the pace that would make you want so much more, or how she whispers ‘good boy’ into your ear every time she wants a whiff of reassurance of control. It’s like she needs one, anyway, judging by how you’re moaning like a bitch right now.

“God, you’re making so much sound for me.” The way she swipes her index finger at the tip of your cock on each stroke, fuck, you can fall onto the floor right here and now. “Wanna see your face in the mirror, baby?”

You turn your head leftwards to find reflections of a contorted face and a grin side by side. Her hand is diligent as ever—building you up to your inevitable release.

“What do you say, baby? Wanna see our faces in the mirror?” she inquires again. You can feel a mischievous smile beside your ear.

“Ngnh, a–alright.”

With ease, she forces your body to turn into your image of the ball of lust—the shower of kisses on your neck; the hand sliding up and down your cock; the thigh pressing up against your ass. You shift and shift within her restraint, and that seems to only fuel her fire.

“Moan some more for me, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I want my men moaning.”

You comply, letting out a series of whimpers just for your student president. The sensation of her hand is so damn enthralling—each slide, each nick of a finger, each twist of her wrist, they are all designed to make you surrender to her.

“Good boy. Your moans are so pleasing to hear, you know that?”

“Nngh, t–thanks, Jimin.”

“Wanna up the ante, baby? I can do it faster~” As if her languid tempo isn’t already doing its job in trapping you inside her overflowing lust.

You hesitate, finding yourself wanting this act to go on to such lengths, maybe even when the sun sets again. Being under her comforting warmth is too satisfying.

“I–I don’t know, Jimin.”

“Oh, this baby can’t decide? Guess I’ll just have to–”

She suddenly lets go of your length, cutting your string of desire so easily. You whine, as Jimin lets out a laugh.

“Don’t!” you say in a rush, and letting go the hand you haven’t realized you’ve been holding—hers.

Jimin giggles. “Say please, baby.” She tightens her hug on you, squeezing the plea out.

Your eyes meet hers in the mirror.

“Please, Jimin.”

“Good boy.” And she wraps her hand around your erection again, casually stroking it.

“Ngh.”

The sound of her jerking your shaft fills the room. It’s heavenly—her voluptuous chest pressing up against your arching back with right hand busy sliding on your rod. She does it so cleanly—the technique, the pace. You swear you will cum by the second she whispers another ‘good boy’ into your welcoming ears.

As if she knows your inevitable release, she seeks a higher speed on your cock, stroking it with a swiftness that tries to draw out your moan and your cum as much as she can.

“Ngh, J–Jimin,” you whimper.

“Oh, gonna cum already, baby?” Jimin giggles at your crumble, before giving a peck on your left cheek. “Go on, cum for me. Cum, just like you did last night inside me.”

White spots start to form within your vision. Your breaths become more erratic. It’s there. It’s there.

“Jimin~”

And you explode all over her mirror, painting white streaks on it. You are left with ecstasy on your face as Jimin smiles at your release. Your body shrieks and shudders in her embrace. Your cock twitches in her hand, sending flying ropes of cum everywhere. Fuck.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” Her voice is deep—so seductive.

You continue to shake in her hold, not being able to subside from your high so quickly. Your release grows lighter and lighter in her hand, until it comes out in drops, finally letting you catch your breath.

“Good boy,” Jimin says, before forcing your body towards hers. You are spun around, and she gives you a kiss.

It’s short, but it’s powerful—no tongue fighting for dominance, no slurping sounds, just a kiss.

And she pulls back from it once she’s satisfied, judging from the smile on her face.

“Wanna do this again?” she asks.

“Definitely—well—maybe. You know Yizhuo would beat our asses if she catches us again, right?”

“Just shut up, babe. She won’t know if you’re good with secrets like me.”

You pout, bringing out a laugh from her.

Winter

“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Kai asks.

You give him a small smile. “It’s bearable, yeah.”

“Good to know, good to know.” He then takes a sip of his latte from his cup, looking outside.

“Fuck, I forgot to ask you this,” you say. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh yeah! In fact, there’s a woman I've been seeing recently, Yizhuo. You probably know her, right? You guys are working together,” Kai answers.

“Oh,” you utter. “Oh.”

He chuckles, before continuing, “Yeah, I know it’s weird–”

“No, no, not at all, bro,” you deflect with a chuckle along with him. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

Kai, still chuckling, inquires, “How about you? It’s gotta be more than ‘bearable’ for you to be all happy like this.”

You give him a smile.

#karina #karina smut #karina x reader #aespa #aespa smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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calmlb · 30 days ago

Text

Higuchi’s Unrevealed Ability

my theory on what it could be…

i think that Higuchi’s ability will be called “Takekurabe” (Growing Up/Child’s Play) after her most famous work, and i believe it might have something to do with reincarnation. here’s why…

in this official art she is featured with red spider lilies, which are symbolic of death, but are also thought of as a bridge between heaven & earth…a reminder of the “cyclical nature of life & death”

Takekurabe also explores themes such as how life is fleeting. & also abt being forced into a role that you didn’t want, or wouldn’t have chosen for yourself

(plus potential foreshadowing: in this official art, Higuchi is surrounded by pinwheels— which symbolize childhood, but also the cycle of life, & the buddhist teaching of reincarnation)

back to reincarnation…

after being told that Akutagawa may never wake up, she reached out to him & a glow appeared around her hand— like she was activating an ability— before pulling away bc she remembered that he didn’t want her (or anyone’s) help

but this means that she’s able to give help in this sort of situation

additionally, the fact that she almost always appears in official arts w Akutagawa indicates that she will probably use her ability on him at some point, which makes sense considering his terminal condition

(note the pulse in the background, his bright eyes, & her white suit)

because we have yet to see her use her ability, i’m assuming that she can only use it once, so she’d be giving up her life for Akutagawa’s (a life for a life— his reincarnation)

this would imitate irl Higuchi’s unfortunately short life— with her having died at only 25 years old. it also makes sense to give her such a powerful ability since irl Higuchi is such an important figure in japanese history— japan’s first professional woman writer of modern literature

now for a less likely, but fun theory…

i wonder if Higuchi’s sister has anything to do with her ability (in bsd she’s unnamed, but her irl sister’s name was Kuniko so that’s what we’ll call her)

according to Higuchi’s bungo episode, despite her literary genius, irl Higuchi was practically useless without her sister

Kuniko was the one who made what Higuchi did possible & kept things functional behind the scenes

so i think it’d be super interesting (& a cool irl reference) if Kuniko was involved in some way with Higuchi’s ability (i also just want to see more of her bc this sister duo is so cute :’))

bonus: when i watched this anime adaptation of Takekurabe, this was the ending scene & i wonder if it was harukawa’s inspiration for this official art 🥹

white lilies represent purity, & since they were off by the side of the road, they might have represented the character’s fleeting purity. white lilies are also used at funerals to represent a soul’s return to purity & its journey to the afterlife… which circles back to the reincarnation theme 👀

#i can’t wait for asgr to explore Higuchi’s character more. i know he’ll do her justice (even if it’s painful 💔)#ps i found that anime to be a really good adaptation of her book! it captured the nostalgic & melancholic tones well #tho ofc nothing can replace reading the book itself… Higuchi-sensei was such a talented writer #if you’re interested i definitely recommend reading AND watching :’)#rambling about bsd again #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd higuchi #higuchi ichiyo #takekurabe #bsd literature #bsd analysis #bsd meta

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inseobts · 1 month ago

Note

hiiii!!! i hope you're having a good day 💖 i love your writing sm!! if your requests are open can i ask for a law x reader where reader used to date ace and was there when he died in marineford so she saw Law save luffy, so she joins the heart pirates as a way to thank him for saving Ace little brother. They slowly fall in love but won't admit it and when Law leaves to fight Doffy reader admits her feelings bc she's terrified of losing Law. They get together when they see each other again in zou

please please but it's okay if you can't or don't want to!!! 💖

Tides of Fate

law × reader (+ ace x reader)

a/n: this request was totally my kind of fav plots lmao thank you

words count: 5.9k

tags: slow burn, angst with a happy ending, marineford aftermath, emotional baggage

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy sits on the shore, his face blank. Too blank. The kind of emptiness that only comes after losing everything.

You know that feeling. It’s the same one you're feeling right now, that it's hard to breathe.

Tearing your gaze away, you turn toward the submarine where Law stands with his arms crossed, waiting. If you’re going to do this, you need to do it now.

Taking a deep breath, you step toward Luffy “Luffy.”

He doesn’t look up.

“I’m leaving.”

His fingers tighten around the bracelet, knuckles white “With them?” His voice is hoarse, raw.

You swallow hard “Yeah.”

Finally, he lifts his head, eyes bloodshot but focused on you “Why?”

You hesitate, because the real answer feels too heavy to say out loud. Because if I stay, I’ll break apart. Because the ache in your chest is unbearable, and you don’t know how to exist in this world without Ace in it.

Instead, you say, “I don’t have anywhere else to go... No one to go to.”

Luffy flinches, but you know he understands. He’s feeling it too.

His jaw tightens “You… you have me. You don’t have to go.”

You kneel in front of him, forcing a small smile “You have your crew, Luffy. They’re coming back to you. But me…” Your voice wavers, and you hate it “I need time.”

Luffy stares at you for a long moment before exhaling shakily “Ace really loved you, y’know.”

Your breath catches.

Luffy grips his hat and presses it to his forehead “So that means you’re like my sister-in-law,” he mumbles, voice thick with emotion “And I protect my family.”

Your vision blurs. You clench your fists to stop your hands from shaking.

“Luffy…”

He looks at you, his expression serious in a way you rarely see “You’re always gonna be my family. Don't forget it. You can come to me whenever you want and need to.”

The words nearly break you.

You force yourself to smile, even if it wobbles “Then you better take care of yourself, little brother.”

His lip trembles, but he nods “You too.”

You take a deep breath, memorizing the sight of him, before finally standing.

Law is waiting, watching silently as you step aboard. You don’t look back.

“That was dramatic” he mutters once you’re beside him.

You huff a weak laugh, hiding your tears “Shut up.”

He doesn’t push you for more, just nods toward the submarine’s entrance “Come on, Y/N-ya. We’re leaving.”

And with that, the Heart Pirates set sail, and you leave the past behind.

The Polar Tang is… different. Not in a bad way, just different. It’s quieter than the Moby Dick, smaller, and runs a lot smoother since it’s a submarine. The crew is nice enough, but they watch you carefully, like they’re waiting to see if you’ll actually stick around, and like they're afraid to say the wrong things.

You don’t blame them. You’re still trying to figure all that out yourself.

What you do know is that you’re not wearing that.

“Absolutely not,” you say, holding up the black and yellow jumpsuit like it personally offended you “There is no way I’m wearing this.”

Penguin grins “Aw, c’mon, it’s tradition! We all wear them.”

“Yeah, and you all look dumb.” You toss the uniform back at him.

Shachi snickers “She’s got a point.”

Bepo tilts his head “But it helps with unity!”

“I don’t care.” You cross your arms “I just lost my last family. I’m not replacing them by playing dress-up with you guys.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You didn’t mean to let that slip, but it’s too late now.

Penguin and Shachi exchange glances, suddenly looking unsure. Bepo’s ears lower slightly.

Before anyone can say anything, Law’s voice cuts through the air.

“She doesn’t have to wear it.”

You turn to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze flicks to the uniform in Penguin’s hands before settling back on you “As long as she follows orders, it doesn’t matter what she wears.”

You smirk, triumphant but still hiding the regrets of your previous words “See? Captain’s orders.”

Penguin groans “Man, you’re getting special treatment already?”

Law clicks his tongue “Tch. Don’t be stupid. She’s not getting special treatment.” He pushes off the wall and starts walking away “Now get back to work.”

The others grumble but scatter, leaving you standing there, still holding your ground.

Law pauses at the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder “You really will be following orders, though.”

You roll your eyes “Yeah, yeah, Captain. You don't have to repeat it again.”

He watches you for a second longer before walking away.

You exhale, shoulders slumping. You still don’t know if this was the right choice. But for now, you’re here and that’s enough.

Days pass, then weeks. You settle into life on the Polar Tang, though settle might be a strong word. You’re still figuring out your place here, still deciding if this is home or just a temporary stop before the sea pulls you somewhere else.

The Heart Pirates warm up to you quickly, especially Penguin and Shachi, who have made it their mission to pester you at every opportunity. Bepo is a sweetheart, and you swear Ikkaku enjoys giving you extra work just to see if you’ll complain.

And then there’s Law.

Your relationship with him is… strange. He’s your captain now, and he makes sure you don’t forget it. He orders you around, assigns you tasks, and corrects you whenever you mess up. But he also lets you push back more than he probably should.

Like now.

“You’re not getting out of training, Y/N-ya,” Law says, arms crossed as he watches you from across the room “You’re part of this crew, which means you need to be able to hold your own.”

You sigh, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pointedly not moving “I can hold my own.”

“You haven’t fought once since you got here.”

“That’s not true. I threw a wrench at Shachi last week.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“It should.”

Law pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a second, Law freezes.

You don’t know why your heart starts beating faster. You don’t know why it suddenly feels like the room is too small, too quiet.

Then, he scoffs “Tch. Keep dreaming.”

You smirk, pushing yourself up “Fine, fine. I’ll train. But only because I choose to.”

Law rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

As you walk past him, you can feel his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long, and for some reason, that makes it just a little easier to breathe.

It's another day with them and dinner is as loud as always. Penguin and Shachi are arguing over who gets the last piece of meat, Bepo is calmly eating his food, and Ikkaku is scolding someone about their table manners. It’s chaotic, messy, and full of life.

You should feel comforted by it.

But then, Shachi laughs, almost losing another game “Doesn’t matter what happens, we’ll figure it out! That’s just how we are, right? We don’t let anyone mess with our family.”

It’s innocent. Just a casual statement made as a joke for a game. But your whole body freezes.

We don’t let anyone mess with our family.

The words slam into you like a punch to the gut. You’ve heard them before. Ace used to say them all the time.

“Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it!”

Your breath catches.

You see Ace in your mind so clearly, grinning, full of warmth and unwavering confidence. His arm draped over your shoulders, his voice always so sure.

“You’re stuck with me, you know. You’re family.”

The sound of laughter around you distorts. Your hands tremble against the table. Your chest tightens so hard it hurts.

Ace said those words all the time, and now he’s gone.

Your vision blurs.

You push your chair back so fast it screeches against the floor.

The room falls silent.

“Y/N-ya?” Law’s voice is cautious, but you can’t answer.

You stand abruptly, shoving away from the table as the weight in your chest becomes unbearable.

You hear Bepo call after you, but you’re already moving, already pushing out the door before anyone can stop you.

The hallway is quiet, but it doesn’t help. Your heart is pounding, your breathing uneven. The walls feel like they’re closing in.

You don’t know where you’re going, just away.

But then...

“Y/N-ya.”

Law.

His voice is calmer than it should be, given the fact that you just stormed out in the middle of dinner. You hear his footsteps behind you, steady and deliberate. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand you stop, but you do.

Because you don’t want to be alone.

You lean against the cool metal wall, staring at the ground, swallowing down the sobs threatening to escape.

Law steps beside you, close enough that his presence is solid, grounding. He doesn’t speak right away, just waits.

After a moment, you exhale shakily “Ace used to say that.” Your voice is hoarse “What Shachi said. About family. I know Shachi was joking, it's not his fault. My mind just started thinking too much, again.”

Law is silent, but you know he’s listening.

You blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay “Ace always said it like nothing could ever touch us. Like as long as we had each other, we’d be okay.”

Your voice cracks.

“But we weren’t. We obviously aren’t.”

And then, suddenly, you can’t hold it in anymore.

The sob breaks free before you can stop it, and then another. Your shoulders shake as you clutch your arms, as if holding yourself together.

Then you feel warmth.

A hand on your back. Firm, steady. Not pushing, just there.

Law doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move away either. He lets you cry, lets you break, without judgment or expectation.

And when your knees nearly give out, he catches you, pulling you close, solid and steady, as if to say, I won’t let you fall. And for the first time since Marineford, you let yourself lean on someone else.

A few months passed…

Of course, things don’t magically get better. That’s not how grief works.

But they shift. Slowly. Subtly.

The crew doesn’t bring up that night you ran out of dinner crying, not directly. But you notice how they’re a little gentler now. Bepo always sits next to you. Penguin and Shachi tease you a bit less (but only a bit), and Ikkaku throws you extra portions without saying a word.

They don’t push. They don’t ask. But they see you.

And Law hasn’t changed. Not exactly. He still gives out orders like commands are oxygen, still gets that narrowed-eye look when you mess up during training, and still acts like emotions are an inconvenience.

But you catch him watching you sometimes. When he thinks you’re not looking.

And when you do catch him, he doesn’t look away.

It’s a calm evening, which is rare. The Polar Tang is surfacing for the night, drifting peacefully on the open sea. You’re up on the deck, sitting cross-legged and staring at the stars, enjoying the breeze on your face.

Law’s voice breaks the silence.

“Not hiding in your room tonight.”

You glance over your shoulder. He’s standing a few feet behind you, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

“I like it up here,” you say, shrugging “it’s quiet. The stars help.”

Law walks over without asking and sits beside you, not close enough to touch, but closer than usual.

You blink “No book tonight?”

He smirks faintly “Even I get tired of reading medical journals.”

You hum and tilt your head back to the sky “Do you ever think about how small we are out here?”

Law doesn’t answer right away “All the time.”

Silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable.

You pick at a loose thread on your pants, then quietly say, “It still hurts.”

“I know.”

You turn to look at him “Do you think it ever goes away?”

Law’s eyes flick to yours, and for a second, his walls drop.

“No,” he says simply “But you get better at carrying it.”

You nod slowly. That makes sense.

You both sit there, the silence stretching, stars spinning above.

Then he speaks again, quiet and careful “You’ve changed.”

You snort “Thanks?”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You glance at him, surprised.

He’s looking out at the ocean now “When you came aboard, I didn’t think you’d last a week.”

You raise an eyebrow “Wow. Inspiring confidence, Captain.”

He smirks again, but it fades fast “But you stayed. Even after everything.”

“Because of you” you say before you can stop yourself.

Law looks at you, startled.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks but hold his gaze “You saved Luffy. You didn’t have to. And then you let me on your ship. You didn’t have to do that either.”

His voice is low “I didn’t do it for thanks.”

“I know. That’s why it mattered.”

There’s a long pause. Something unspoken crackling in the air between you.

You look back at the sea, heart pounding, trying to ignore how much you want him to say something, anything that will explain what’s been growing between you.

He doesn’t. Not yet.

But he doesn’t move away either.

And when his shoulder brushes yours, just slightly, you don’t pull back.

Two years.

That’s how long it’s been since you joined the Heart Pirates.

And somewhere between near-death missions, long nights on the sea, and quiet moments you didn’t ask for. Something changed.

You and Law changed.

It’s not loud or obvious. Not something you could put into words if someone asked. But it’s there.

Like the way his eyes always flick to you when he walks into a room.

Like how you always end up sitting beside him at meals, even without meaning to.

Like how his voice softens slightly when he says your name.

He still scolds you during training. Still sighs like you’re impossible when you ignore protocol.

And when you’re injured? He’s the first one kneeling at your side. Every time. Without fail.

You don’t talk about it. He doesn’t either.

But it’s real. It’s there. And everyone else knows it.

“Okay, seriously,” Shachi whispers one night as he leans over the dining table toward Penguin, “did you see the way they looked at each other earlier? Like... looked. That was something.”

Penguin nods “They’re either in love or telepathically plotting a murder.”

“I’m going with both” Ikkaku mutters, sipping her tea.

Bepo sighs “We’re not supposed to bring it up.”

“Why not?” Shachi hisses “They’re so obvious, it’s painful.”

“Because of Ace” Bepo says softly “She’s been through a lot. We won’t pressure her.”

That shuts everyone up for a beat.

Until Shachi mumbles “Still feels like they’re circling each other in slow motion.”

Ikkaku stabs a dumpling with unnecessary aggression “Just kiss already. I’m begging.”

You catch them watching you sometimes, too many times to pretend it’s subtle.

Whenever you and Law share a look, the whole room seems to pause.

Whenever he lingers a second too long beside you, or his hand brushes yours, the crew’s collective poker face fails miserably.

But Law ignores it all. Just keeps moving forward, like it doesn’t affect him.

Like he doesn’t know that your heart skips every time he calls your name in that low, measured tone.

And you pretend not to notice either. Pretend your stomach doesn’t twist when he leans in too close. Pretend you don’t feel the shift every time your eyes meet.

But in the quiet moments, when it’s just you and him, you feel something hanging there between you. Like something is building.

The unspoken thing between you and Law has only grown heavier by time. Stolen glances, the rare soft tone in his voice when he says your name, the way your hand always finds the spot next to his at the table.

You’ve gotten used to reading him, how to tell when he’s irritated, when he’s tired, when he’s secretly impressed. But now, something’s off.

He’s quiet lately. More than usual. Locked in his quarters for hours at a time. Studying maps, muttering things you can’t hear. And when you ask, he brushes it off with a flat “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Which, of course, only makes you worry more.

One night, dinner is unusually tense.

Shachi and Penguin whisper from across the table, not even trying to hide it anymore.

“She’s gonna find out soon.”

“She already knows. Look at her face.”

“She knows something,” Bepo mutters “But she doesn’t know it’s Dressrosa.”

You set your spoon down “What’s Dressrosa?”

The table falls into silence.

Ikkaku winces “Damn it.”

You stare at them all “What’s happening?”

Nobody speaks.

So you stand, chair scraping behind you, and walk straight out of the mess hall.

You find Law in the control room, his face locked over a table full of charts. Dressrosa is circled in red.

He doesn’t flinch when you walk in.

You close the door behind you “You’re going there.”

He nods once “Yes.”

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

Law straightens up, but doesn’t meet your eyes “It’s not your concern.”

“It is my concern,” you snap “I’m your crew too, just like the rest of them.”

He finally looks at you “That’s exactly why you’re staying with them.”

There’s a long beat of silence. Just you and him, staring, and the space between you suddenly feels like a chasm.

“You’re doing it again” you say softly “Pulling away. Trying to protect everyone by shutting us out.”

Law’s expression flickers with guilt, regret and frustration.

“I’m handling it.”

“No, you’re running. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You're not scared...” You step closer, voice breaking “You’re terrified of letting people care about you. You think if you keep pushing us away, it won’t hurt when something happens.”

You lower your voice “But it will. It always does.”

He stares at you, like he’s waiting for you to stop.

You don’t.

“You think I don’t see what this is between us? You think I haven’t felt it for a long time now?”

He says nothing.

You take a breath “You’ve given me so much, Law. You gave me a second life after Ace. You gave me something to live for again.”

Your throat tightens “And now you’re just gonna disappear into some revenge mission and pretend like none of this matters?”

His eyes darken “It does matter.”

You blink “Then say it.”

Law opens his mouth, then closes it again.

You shake your head, heart cracking open “Forget it.”

You turn to leave.

But before you touch the door...

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says behind you “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

You stop. But you don’t look back.

You don’t sleep that night.

You lie in your bunk, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second of that conversation. The look in Law’s eyes. The silence where his answer should’ve been. The ache in your chest that’s only getting worse.

When you hear footsteps above deck a little before dawn, you know it’s him.

You throw on a jacket and follow without thinking.

He’s there, standing at the edge of the deck, the sea wind catching his coat. Alone.

He turns slightly when you approach “You should be asleep.”

“You should be explaining yourself.”

His mouth twitches. A ghost of a smile. Gone in an instant.

You cross your arms “You were really gonna leave without saying goodbye.”

Law looks ahead again, gaze fixed on the horizon “Goodbyes make it harder.”

You take a breath “Harder for who?”

Silence.

You step beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his arm “I meant what I said yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And?”

He exhales slowly “You shouldn’t love someone like me.”

Your heart lurches “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“I know who you are,” you snap “I’ve seen you save strangers without blinking. I’ve seen you risk your life for your crew. For Luffy. For me.”

You pause, voice low “I love all of that. And if you leave now, and something happens to you—”

You look at him fully now “Don’t make me lose someone else I love, Law. Not without even getting to hold onto you first.”

His jaw tightens. He says nothing.

So you laugh, bitter and soft “Of course. You don’t say anything you don’t think you deserve to feel.”

You start to turn away, tears building, when he says “I do.”

You freeze.

He’s looking at you now. Fully. No mask.

“I do feel it. All of it.”

He steps forward, slow and certain, until he’s close enough that you can see the storm in his eyes and hear the quiet panic in his breath.

“Every time you laugh. Every time you sit next to me without saying a word. Every time I catch myself looking at you and don’t know how to stop. I feel it.”

Your lips part, but you don’t speak. You can’t.

“I didn’t want to,” he says, voice barely above a whisper “But it happened. And now I don’t know how to leave without feeling like I’m leaving part of myself behind.”

Your throat burns.

“So don’t,” you whisper “Don’t leave like that. Not with nothing.”

He hesitates.

Then, he leans in slowly, unsure, and presses his forehead to yours.

Not a kiss. Not yet. But it says everything.

“I’ll come back,” he promises “And when I do… if you’re still here—”

“I will be.”

A breath passes between you. His hand brushes your cheek like he’s still convincing himself you’re real.

Then he pulls away.

“Stay safe” he says.

“You too, Law.”

And with one last glance, he disappears down the dock, coat billowing, heart heavy, and not just with revenge anymore.

The moment your feet hit the ground of Zou, you’re paralyzed. The chaos of the crew bustling around you, the excitement in the air, everything feels too loud. It’s all too much. You’ve been bracing for this moment for what feels like an eternity, but now that it’s here, you can’t breathe.

You’ve heard the whispers that he’s finally back, felt the crew’s excitement bubbling up like they’re about to burst. But nothing could prepare you for the reality of seeing him alive. You knew they won, you knew he was out there, somewhere, but seeing him in front of you again… it’s different.

Your heart races. The crew is already moving forward, pulling you along because you’re too shocked to even move on your own. They don’t even try to hide it, they want to see this happen.

And then there he is.

The crew appears from the bushes and trees around him.

Law stands tall at the center of the clearing, his eyes scanning the crew as they move toward him, his usual cold demeanor barely cracked by the soft, almost imperceptible smile on his lips as he sees Bepo charging toward him before he could even find you with his eyes. The sight of him makes everything inside you freeze.

It’s not that you didn’t know he was alive, but now, standing here, seeing him with your own eyes, it feels real.

Bepo throws himself at Law, tears in his eyes as he cries out, “Captain!” The hug is tight, emotional, the kind of reunion you would have imagined, one that speaks of the bond between them, of loyalty and friendship. Law’s arms stiffen at first but then soften, holding Bepo close, the smile on his face genuine if not a bit awkward.

You stand there, caught in the wave of emotions that’s rushing through you. Relief, yes, but something else too...fear. Fear of what this means. You haven’t let yourself think about it that much, but now, with him standing there before you, something shifts. It’s the first time in two years you feel your heart thundering like it did when you first met him, when you started noticing those little things about him, the quiet ways he showed his care.

But now… he’s here.

Bepo pulls back, laughing through his tears “I’m so glad you’re alive, Captain!”

Before Law can even respond, someone else, maybe Ikkaku, maybe Shachi, pulls Bepo away gently, guiding him back to the group.

And then Law finally sees you.

There’s a moment, a breath of time where you feel like the whole world is holding its breath. You didn’t expect the distance between you to feel so large. You didn’t expect to feel so small.

You stand still, unsure of what to do, your legs suddenly heavy, like they’re made of stone. You know the crew, everyone, is watching, but none of that matters right now. You’re looking at him, really seeing him for the first time in so long, and it feels like everything inside you is falling apart.

He hasn’t changed. He still has that same unreadable expression, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. His eyes linger, and in them, you see the same thing you’ve always seen, quiet intensity. But there’s a softness now, a faint warmth.

You don’t move.

You can’t move.

It’s not fear. It’s… shock. You thought you were ready. You thought you were prepared. But seeing him here, right in front of you, it’s more than you can process in a single moment. The flood of emotions, the relief, the joy, the terror, all rush through you all at once, and it feels overwhelming. You never realized how much you needed this, how much you’ve missed him, until now.

And then, slowly, Law begins to walk toward you, his movements steady, calculated, like he’s taking his time, giving you space. When he stops in front of you, there’s a long pause. His eyes are searching your face, studying you, like he’s waiting for something. You’re afraid to look into them, to let him see how much you’ve been holding back.

And then, softly, he speaks “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally look up into his eyes. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. The relief is too much. The pain of missing him, of not knowing if you’d ever see him again, it all comes crashing down, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek.

Law’s eyes flicker to it, and without a second thought, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing it away “You don’t have to hide it” he says, his voice low and careful.

“I—” You try to speak, but your voice cracks. You can’t say what you need to. It’s too much. Everything is too much.

Law stands there, his hand still lingering near your cheek, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush. He just stands there, waiting for you to breathe, for you to find your voice.

And when you finally do, it’s quiet “I thought I lost you. I—I didn’t know if I could—”

“You didn’t lose me.” His words are simple, but they cut through the noise in your head. He steps closer, his hand sliding from your cheek to rest gently on your shoulder, the contact grounding you “I’m here. I told you I would be.”

And in that moment, you let yourself believe it.

You don’t know what’s going to happen from here, but for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not standing alone anymore. Law is here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Zou is loud again.

After the quiet weight of seeing Law alive, after the press of his hand on your shoulder, after the whirlwind that followed, now everything is moving. New plans are forming. Straw Hats talking over each other. Heart Pirates buzzing about what’s next. Minks giving updates. It’s chaos. Familiar chaos. The kind you hadn’t realized you missed.

You find Luffy just outside one of the tree dwellings, scarfing down food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, which, to be fair, is probably true.

“Luffy” you say, your voice unsure but soft.

He looks up, mouth full “Y/n!” He jumps to his feet and wraps you in the kind of hug only Luffy can give, tight, fast, and a little chaotic “You’re okay! You’re really here!”

You nod against his chest, your throat tight “You too…”

“Of course I am!” he grins like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “I knew we’d all meet again. I told you!”

He pulls back and beams at you “We’re gonna get Sanji back. Me, Nami, Chopper and Brook. You should come too! With me!”

You freeze.

Your eyes dart past the Straw Hats, past the Heart Pirates, until they land on him. Law is leaning near a shaded post, arms crossed, watching the scene from a distance. You can feel his eyes on you.

You start to answer Luffy, but someone else cuts in.

“She’s not going.”

It’s Law.

He’s walking toward you both now, slow and steady, like the decision was already made before this conversation even started.

Luffy blinks “Huh?”

Law stops beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours “She’s staying with me. With the Heart Pirates.”

You look up at him, startled. You hadn’t even told him you would yet. But he’s not looking at you, he’s looking straight at Luffy.

Nami steps closer, eyebrows raised like she knows exactly what’s going on “Luffy, read the room…”

Luffy blinks again, slowly turning to you “Wait. What? Since when?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come.

“I—” You shake your head “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

“Why not?” Luffy tilts his head, confused as ever “You like Law, right?”

Your eyes widen “Luffy…”

“It’s fine,” he says with a shrug “I mean, I get the way you’re looking at him right now. I just didn’t know it was, you know… like that like that.” He grins.

You stare at him, stunned “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he says, blinking like the very idea is weird “You think Ace would be mad?”

You swallow hard, throat tightening at the mention of Ace’s name.

“I just...” Your voice cracks “I didn’t want to disappoint him. Or you. He… he loved me. And I loved him. And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to—”

“Y/n.”

Luffy’s voice is soft. Even softer than usual.

He smiles again, big and warm and bright “Ace would be happy. Really happy. Because you’re not alone anymore. He wouldn’t want you to be.”

You blink fast, trying to keep the tears back, but it’s no use “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Luffy says, tapping his chest “Because Ace told me you were the best thing that ever happened to him. He said if anything ever happened to him, I had to take care of you. You found someone who can take care of you even better than me, and I’ll always support you like my sister.”

That breaks something in you. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to cry outright.

Nami steps up beside Luffy, resting a hand on your back “He’s right, you know. We’ve all known for a while now. About you and Law. After we met Law and Luffy asked him about you, it was pretty obvious even if the man here has the most unreadable face. It’s just Luffy that is always too oblivious.”

Law, still at your side, hasn’t said a word. But his presence is steady, anchoring. His eyes stay on you.

Luffy grins and throws his arm over your shoulder, dragging you into another hug “I’m happy for you, Y/n. And Ace would be too.”

You press your face against his chest again, this time not hiding the tears “Thank you.”

Law leans in slightly, his voice low near your ear “You didn’t have to be scared.”

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears “I know. But it still scared me.”

“I get it,” he says “But you don’t have to worry. And you can talk to me about your fears, I won’t leave you alone.”

And somehow, for the first time, you believe it.

The sun is dipping behind the massive trees of Zou, painting everything in golden light. The others are gone now, off to find Sanji. The moment they disappeared over the horizon, the world got quiet again.

Too quiet.

You sit at the edge of the overlook, watching the sky shift from orange to deep indigo. The wind brushes through your hair, soft and cool. You hug your knees to your chest, letting yourself breathe for what feels like the first time in days.

And then you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You’re always out, watching the sky when it gets dark” Law says, voice even.

You don’t look at him, not yet “It’s peaceful. Beautiful. Easier to think.”

He stands beside you for a second, silent, then sits down next to you with a small sigh. The space between you hums. Not touching, but not distant either.

You glance over. His hat’s off. That always does something to you. Makes him look realer. Softer. More… him.

“You really told Luffy I was staying with you” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips “Didn’t even bother ask me.”

“You were going to stay anyway” he replies, tilting his head toward you.

“I might’ve,” you murmur, teasing “Might’ve said no. Might’ve gone off on my own. Who knows.”

He looks at you, dead serious “You wouldn’t.”

You meet his eyes “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve looked at me the same way I look at you. You wouldn’t want to separate again.”

Your breath catches.

The silence after that is thick, like the air itself is holding its breath with you.

“I was scared,” you whisper “Of what it meant. Of what it felt like. After Ace… I didn’t think I was allowed to feel this way again.”

“I know,” Law says, just as quietly “That’s why I never pushed.”

You look down at your hands “But you stayed.”

His voice is steady “I wasn’t going to be another person you lost.”

That’s when your heart cracks, but in a good way. The dam you’ve been holding back breaks just a little. You turn to him, really look at him. The way the fading light touches his face, the faint worry in his brow, the way he’s looking at you like you’re everything.

“Say it,” you breathe “Just once.”

Law doesn’t hesitate “I love you.”

And you’re already leaning in by the time he says the last word.

The kiss is slow and gentle. His hand cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. Yours clutches his coat, grounding yourself.

It’s not desperate. It’s relieved.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you a little breathless.

You whisper “I love you too.”

He smirks “You were worth the wait.”

Your smile widen and just as his small smile/smirk.

“FINALLY!”

You both flinch apart like you were struck by lightning.

Law whips around, eyes narrowing “What the hell—”

From behind a cluster of bushes near the edge of the clearing, three heads pop out in rapid succession: Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku. Bepo follows a second later, way too big to be hiding, but he tries anyway.

“We knew it!” Shachi shouts.

“I said it would happen today!” Penguin crows, fist-pumping like he just won a bet.

“I told you she was gonna make the first move” Ikkaku says smugly.

“You literally did not” Penguin says.

Bepo tries to look innocent “I was just... uh... making sure they were okay…”

You bury your face in your hands, heat flooding your cheeks “Oh my god!”

Law groans, dragging a hand down his face “How long were you there?”

“Long enough” Ikkaku grins.

“To hear everything” Shachi adds.

“I hate all of you” Law mutters.

“Don’t lie to us, Captain,” Penguin says, smug “You’re glowing.”

“I am not glowing.”

“You kind of are” Bepo mumbles.

You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks still flushed, but honestly, it’s kind of perfect. This dumb, messy, ridiculous crew, you didn’t know how badly you needed them until they showed up in your life. Until he showed up in your life.

“Alright,” Law snaps, pushing to his feet and brushing off his coat, “You saw what you wanted. Now go. Before I use Room.”

That gets them moving fast.

Shachi and Penguin scramble like cockroaches, dragging Bepo behind them while Ikkaku throws a wink over her shoulder “You’re cute together! Don’t screw it up!”

They disappear, giggling like kids.

You turn back to Law, trying not to laugh “So… that happened.”

He sighs, but there’s the faintest smile tugging at his lips “We’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

“Nope.”

A pause.

“…Still worth it?” you ask, teasing.

He glances at you. And then, softly “Always.”

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euphoria-looney · 5 months ago

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Hold Me, Console Me, And then I’ll Leave Without a Trace, No One Noticed by The Marias

Before we start this has many ideas for authors and some are specific, so if you notice “Hey that looks like what idea I put into my post” PLEASE TELL ME, I would love to give you credit, bc I probably would have never made this without it!

and greatgooglymoogly (my friend, I don't discriminate against other greatgogglymoogly's) if you see this scroll, admire how aesthetic this post is and scroll./j

(This has a mother!darling and a daughter!darling, and they are separate from the reader- unless you decide they aren’t 😍😍)

gn!reader (if I accidentally make them seem too feminine, I’m sorry 😞)

So Much More.

Pt. 1 Pt.2

All my life, I held onto this thin piece of thread called hope. It started off as a rope, almost strangled myself with it, but as time went on and as it started dwindling down, it started snapping.

So, now, the only thing that kept this “rope” connected was a thin piece of thread, too bad, it broke. Due to people who were honestly victims.

Bruce Wayne.

Everyone knows him, who cares if you love him, who cares if you hate him, I mean eat the rich, and who cares if you don’t care about him. To me, he’s a good-for-nothing sperm donor who was also my landlord.

My dear mother, (M/N) (L/N). What a diva she was. She gave me everything and so much more. She embraced me in such comfort that I could feel myself slipping when it disappeared from right under me.

Gotham City is one of the many crime-raided cities there is in the world, anything could go wrong.

Luckily for momma, she died through a natural death, unluckily for me, she was my everything. I mean really, a child no older than 4 frantically searching for something, anything. Desperation creeping in, dialing an emergency call, with terrible service and small fat fingers that didn’t even know how to operate such a stupid telephone that only worked if you used it at an angle.

May my dearest momma lay in a field of flowers, sunlight kissing her skin, that was the fantasy she told me she’d love to take me to. Something Gotham City could only be reached if there was no such thing as heroes, villains, or vigilantes.

If it wasn’t for my appearance I’d would had gone to an orphanage, th officer or whatever he was, Gorgan? Gordon? Doesn’t matter, he called him someone.

a man who seemed so formal and elegant showed up, he would be my father figure, for the time I would spend in the manor. Since, it just so happens I had a 100 percent match with a certain millionaire, billionaire. The man that showed up was none other than my light in the dim, depressing place.

Alfred, the butler for the Bruce Wayne.

Ecstatic, I was, that’s when the rope appeared, my thoughts ran rapid.

Do I have siblings? How many? How’s my dad?

Questions after question, answered with… I hope you’re hungry for…

nothing 😐-

Alfred had answered all my questions, of course I met them all… eventually,

Richard, other wise known as “Dick”

He tried to give the impression to the family as a caring big brother. Well, not to me obviously. When he first met me, his first words were “Who’s the kid?”

“Who’s the kid?” Dick asked

“This is your new sibling, [name] Wayne”

He was there, for y’know that one second, moving on Tim.

Tim

I’ve never held a conversation with him, he breezed past me.

Jason.

BFFs, before he died, then came back to life, then shut me out.

Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie

Was my idol, but they stuck their head up so high that they didn’t notice me. Making her nothing more than a second thought in my head.

Duke

Sweet kid, from what I've seen in the shadows.

Damian

He really, broke me in, hell if anyone’s impacted me, it’s him.

degrading me like I was a bug infestation.

Then he stopped, saying “I don’t have time to waste on you.”

Are you kidding me?

I did everything and more for the attention of my family.

Sports? You name it. I probably did it.

Instruments? Do you even know how many medals I've won?

Singing and dance are challenging but that doesn't mean I'm not perfect to the T.

But nothing worked, it's funny you'd think, with how pathetic I am, especially with all these attempts that idiotic thin thread would've already snapped.

No.

Do you know what made it snap? [M/D] and [D/D]. (The second D- stands for darling)

The pair were everyone's obsession.

[M/D], Bruce Wayne's one true love, if this hasn't been obvious my mother was a fling/rebound of Mr. Wayne. [M/D], beautiful, kind, and the object in the family's eyes. It's quite sad if anything, she's like a caged bird.

[D/D], younger than Damian.

Oh, I haven't given you the age scale from oldest to youngest.

Dick and Barbara are the same age, being the oldest

Jason

Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra

Duke

Damian

[D/D]

Out of these many children. Three are blood-related with Bruce Wayne, Me, Damian, and [D/D].

I'm getting off track.

[D/D], adored, so small you'd want to keep her in your pocket.

One thing was clear about these two. They were everything to the Wayne family.

That's when the string broke.

They came probably by force and hated the very thing I wanted, attention, and love.

I wish I could say I hate them, as they were parallel to me and my mother.

My mother, who was the other woman.

My mother, who never held a grudge.

My mother, who died in a cold, dark room.

My mother, who could never see what type of person I am today.

But I couldn't hate them. I can't. They were the only other ones who gave me that family bond that wanted for so long.

It didn't help that they seemed to deem me to be the favorite. [M/D] loved to be my 'mother' and in her eyes, I was her favorite child, of course behind [D/D] since I was normal compared to them.

[D/D] If I'm near her, maybe grabbing a snack while the family is having 'family game night' she'd somehow spot me, giving that puppy-eyed look, pulling me to join them.

I would, if it's not for the way I would feel these eyes boring on me.

'Why do you have to be here, why are you ruining the moment, who are you?'

I'd pull my hand away, shaking my head, patting her hair, before making it back to the dim, dark hallway, so empty, that you could hear each echo of the step.

As I sit here complaining, at least today's, the day. I'm officially 18.

That's right. 18 years of age and everything I just wrote down has been a recap of my life.

This is my 14th journal. For each year that I've been in the manor, I had a journal, that captured each year of my life, from my emo phase to my popular phase, and now here, the year I graduate, the year that I officially move out.

My first journal was a composition journal, Alfred had no idea what I would like, everyone else was busy according to him, he gave me this journal and told me to write everything I felt, and nobody would ever see it. It's stained definitely. My first-ever entry was: "I wish I got a pet to keep me company, at least that would be better than this stupid silence."

Okay, so maybe there were a lot of spelling mistakes. I don't need to write it down. Even trying to decipher that whole sentence was hard. Not the point I would lose interest every few months before coming back to it. Then it became a hobby. It's very important to me.

I graduated yesterday, too bad nobody was there. Alfred was too busy to come to celebrate it, since graduations are long and take a while, his job came first before anything. Today is my birthday, it's a joke if anything. The day before my graduation is my birthday. I bought this journal yesterday as a little celebration gift and to me in general to celebrate my birthday.

That should be all for my entry.

Yours truly,

[Name] [Last Name]

Standing up I glance at my bookshelf filled with different genres of books, split into non-fiction and fiction. Journals filled with information from books, facts that mattered, and scenes that hit me deeply.

Junk journals, bullet journals, and the sheld that mattered the most to me.

My personal journals. 15 journals including the one that I was holding my hand.

A knock broke my thoughts, I slipped the journal I had in my hand onto the shelf before opening the door.

"Happy birthday, young master. I made a cupcake batch for you. Even an edible candle." He held cupcakes to me arranged so delicately with a candle on the center cupcake.

I'm going to miss him so much when I leave. So much so that I didn't even notice the tears slipping from my eyes.

"Oh dear, young master, I'm so sorry that I missed your graduation yesterday, and of course, the others wanted to be there- they were-"

"No, it's not that Alfred- Thank you so much, for everything." I engulfed him in a hug. Something I hadn't done since I was a child.

He held me and consoled me before leaving as it seemed [D/D] had adopted another feral animal or something like that.

I smiled and nodded at him when he apologized for having to go, shaking my head in understanding.

I looked over everything in my room. I would leave everything behind, including my journals. Even the newly bought one. If I was going to leave. I wanted to at least have something that showed.

I existed.

I would leave without a trace that I had left in the first place. And even leaving all these books here, I'm sure you couldn't even tell this would be a room without the bed, just some library with random entries from this random room.

Like a coward, I'll leave a letter for Alfred. For him, and only him.

With that, I bid the manor goodbye. With whatever presents I had anyway.

Also if this is cringy, just let me be delusional and believe that I ate this shit up.

Kind of new to how to format on Tumblr, and how to make posts pretty.

Anyway I wrote this with Grammarly so if you see any mistakes with the writing, I say "boo"

Hoped you enjoyed, bc I'm brewing up the next part... and also how to make a masterlist and all that jazz.

#yandere batfamily #platonic batfam #platonic yandere damian wayne #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader

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specialagentartemis · 1 month ago

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#hey does anyone know what the deal was with the claims that Friday the 13th and Easter are actually pagan feminist fertility holidays #that were appropriated by the patriarchy/Catholic church? #because I feel like I'm going crazy seeing cnn quote that tumblr post from years ago #like which one came first (bc I can't find that post) and how true are those claims

@assclarinet Wh... what do you mean CNN is quoting tumblr posts. What.

Anyway. These claims go around constantly and they are just as sourceless as anything else in that post.

And as it is Easter Season, let's address them:

Was Easter actually a pagan feminist fertility holiday appropriated by the Catholic Church?

Short answer: No.

Long answer:

Easter is the theological core of Christianity. There is no Christianity without Easter. Easter is the holiest day of the Christian calendar, because it is the theological crux of the entire religion: that Jesus died, and then three days later he rose from the dead, his sacrifice having redeemed the world of sin and his resurrection ushering in a new age. Easter is a very Christian thing.

That's not typically what people who say this mean, though. They don't mean the Christian holy day of Jesus's resurrection Easter Sunday, they mean the hegemonic spring holiday in the culturally-Christian world that is pseudo-secularized Easter.

Was placing the central element of Christianity in the spring a way of co-opting pagan spring fertility festivals? No. It's fairly central to the Last Supper-crucifixion-resurrection narrative that it happened at Passover. The Gospels pretty well agree on this part, though there's conflict in the scholarship of whether the Last Supper was a Passover meal proper or happened a day before. (The seder as it is understood today wasn’t performed the same way back then, so it wasn’t properly a seder, either.) In early Christianity, the association of Easter with Passover was theologically significant--Jesus was (and is) called the Paschal lamb, equating Jesus's sacrifice with the sacrifice/slaughter of a lamb for the deliverance of the people from death. The timing of Easter is one of the few Christian holy days calculated based on the logic of the Jewish luni-solar calendar. It's not the same exact calendar, and they don't always directly coincide, but it's the same basis.

Early Christianity grew out of Judaism, and its relationship to Judaism, its self-view as the culmination of Judaism, remained significant to figures like Paul who have defined Christian thought and Church organization ever since. (Here’s a standard view on this presented from a Jewish perspective.) (This is a super interesting perspective from a Congregationalist Christian theologian with a keen interest on the Jewish roots of early Christianity.) (Here’s also a really interesting interview with provocative Jewish philosopher Daniel Boyarin about it.) Christianity and Judaism probably started really developing in different directions sometime after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, with the next few centuries seeing the rise of Rabbinic Judaism as well as the influx of pagan gentiles adopting Christianity and bringing their theological and philosophical backgrounds into it.

The upshot is: Easter is in the spring because Passover is in the spring.

Does the name "Easter" come from Ostara or Ishtar? No. These are the etymologies I see proposed to say, see! "Easter" steals the name of a pagan fertility goddess! And that's a super English-centric way of looking at the world. In most European languages (and let's be real, when people talk about Christianity stealing pagan holidays, they usually are thinking about, like, Celts), the name of Easter comes from the Latin "Pascha" which was adopted from the Greek "Pascha" which, wow, sounds an awful lot like Pesach, the Hebrew name of Passover. Because Easter was associated with Passover. Even in English, the formal, liturgical word for "pertaining to Easter" is "Paschal". So only in Germanic languages like German and English does the name of Easter come from non-Paschal origins.

Also there is no connection to Ishtar.

The etymology of "Easter" is super obscure, though.

Well, there was an Eostre, right? And the Easter bunny tradition was stolen from the pre-Christian Germanic pagan festivals for Eostre or Ostara? Ehhhhh. Dubious. This Library of Congress folklore blog post by a folklorist who has studied Middle English has a lot of well-cited information suggesting that most "received wisdom" about the pagan festivals or Eostre/Ostara that featured a hare derive from the Brothers Grimm in the 1800s. Jakob Grimm cites a single source for the evidence of a goddess Eostre, an 8th century Christian monk's writing.

Eosturmonath has a name which is now translated "Paschal month", and which was once called after a goddess of theirs named Eostre, in whose honour feasts were celebrated in that month. Now they designate that Paschal season by her/its name, calling the joys of the new rite by the time-honoured name of the old observance.

Definitely possible, even likely, there was some syncretism in the celebration activities there, but it's hard to prove what, and to what extent.

Grimm is the one who postulates the existence of Ostara based on this, using the methods of historical linguistics to derive a cognate with the old German oster-month. Note that the Grimms were 1) linguists as well as folklorists, and the idea of Ostara appears to come from linguistic hypothesis moreso than actual gathered folklore, and 2) very invested in nation-building through their folklore project. No other sources for Eostre or Ostara exist, though modern linguists have hypothesized a connection to the Vedic Ushas and Greek Eos as Indo-European dawn-goddesses. (Also hence the word "east.") So Eostre and Ostara may certainly have existed as Germanic goddesses/personifications of the dawn, but probably not fertility. And the month around April, as the return of spring, was associated with the dawn goddess. If so, Eostre gave her name to Eosturmonath ("Eostre-month"), which is when Easter fell (see above re: the timing of Passover), and so Eoastremonath became Easter-month became Easter. "Easter" then likely derives from the name of the month, not the goddess directly.

The story of Ostara and a hare was, as best I can tell, invented in the 1800s during a time of renewed interest in European paganism as, again, nation-building projects.

Hares, eggs/chicks, and flowers are all perennial symbols of spring and new life in Europe, so it wouldn't be surprising if older celebrations in springtime used them, and those got transferred onto Easter celebrations because, hey, spring, dawn, sunrise out of the night, new birth, resurrection, new life, it all kinda goes together. But it wasn't a holiday that was "appropriated by the patriarchy/Catholic Church,"; at most it was traditional spring festivities transferred onto the new spring festivity. This happened a lot.

As for the second question...

Was Friday the 13th a pagan fertility holiday and that's why it's been made unlucky now?

Short answer: No.

Long answer:

No one really agrees on why Friday the 13th is unlucky, but it probably also comes from Christianity. Friday is the unlucky day because it's the day that Jesus was crucified. 13 is the unlucky number because that's the number of people at the Last Supper. I've also seen several people online reference that Loki was the 13th guest at the feast where he caused the death of Baldr, but I can't find an actual source for that, and it feels very Christianity-influenced. The most influential records of old Norse/Icelandic mythology were written down in the 1200s, well after Christianity was the primary religion of the region, and Christian influences on Norse mythology as we know it now cannot be wholly discounted. So I'm somewhat skeptical Loki is the origin, either.

But also, and this is where I get more into personal hypothesizing, 12 is a very strong and auspicious number in a lot of cultures. There are (typically, approximately) 12 full moons in a year, so lots and lots of calendars split the year into 12 months. 12 is a good number for timekeeping and subdividing: Ancient Egyptians were the ones to develop 12-hour days/nights, and Mesopotamians the ones to split time into units of 60. There were twelve tribes of Israel, twelve disciples, twelve Olympians, twelve labors of Hercules, twelve constellations in the Greek zodiac and twelve years in the Chinese zodiac cycle. English has unique number-names up to twelve before we start going three-ten, four-ten, etc. We like twelves! Particularly in cultures influenced by the Mediterranean sphere. So I can imagine prime thirteen is ungainly, awkward... unlucky.

(Also, the idea of splitting the week into a cycle of 7 days originates from Judaism in the Biblical book of Genesis, continuing into Christianity and Islam from the same origin. The whole concept of "Friday" is inextricable from Abrahamic religions.)

There's no evidence it was ever a sacred pagan day for sex or anything like that. It just wasn't.

#misinformation #Christianity #Easter #Friday the 13th #history and the world #religion

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